


The Nightmare

by addict_writer



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Anti-Ethan, Gap Filler, Gay Bashing, M/M, Plot Twists
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 19:46:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3459656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addict_writer/pseuds/addict_writer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Justin's nightmares return, Ethan can't help him and decides to involve Brian in fixing his boyfriend. His plan backfires at him. Set in Season 3 – with a twist. Justin leaves Ethan faster than in the show. Story donated to Fandom4Soldiers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Nightmare

** **

**Title:** The Nightmare **  
Pen name** : addicted-to-romione-bedward **  
Fandom:** Queer as Folk (US) **  
Pairing/Characters:** Brian/Justin **  
Rating:** M **  
Warnings:** mentions of Justin's bashing **  
Disclaimer:** I don't own the tv show or anything related to it. **  
Beta:** harrytwifan **  
Pre-readers:** Yulliah **  
Banner by:** addicted-to-romione-bedward ****  
Summary: When Justin's nightmares return, Ethan can't help him and decides to involve Brian in fixing his boyfriend. His plan backfires at him. Set in Season 3 – with a twist. Justin leaves Ethan faster than in the show. Story donated to Fandom4Soldiers.

**Justin's POV**

_Turning from Brian, I walked away, happy with how our night ended. I fingered the silky scarf, smiling. It still smelled of Brian._

" _Justin!" He shouted my name, fear lacing his voice._

_I didn't get to turn all the way to face him, because the side of my head flared up in pain._

_Brian ran to me, but he never reached me. He got farther and farther away. Blankness took over._

_._

_._

_._

" _Don't die on me, Sunshine!" A broken voice from somewhere above me._

_._

_._

_._

" _Do something, you useless shit! He's not breathing!"_

_._

_._

_._

" _Jus-_ tin _."A sob._

I shot up, drenched in cold sweat and screaming my lungs out.

"Baby," a soft voice said. "Justin. What…?"

I scrambled up to sit on the bed, hugging my knees and rocking. Fuck. I hadn't had a nightmare in months.

They came back after I'd left Brian, but this one was different. It was more of a memory than a nightmare.

I was aware Ethan was staring at me expecting an answer, but I couldn't talk. I was afraid to open my mouth in fear of the sounds escaping me.

"Justin. What happened?" He crawled closer, touching my face.

I jerked away, biting my lip to keep from screaming.

In that moment, I realized there was only one touch I craved more than anything in the world; only one touch could calm me. Obviously, _he_ wasn't there.

And _he_ would never be again. I made sure of it by choosing Ethan.

That was my first horrible nightmare ever since I moved in with Ethan. And for the rest of the week, it was on repeat every night. Especially Brian's voice cracking as it said my name—that gutted me every time I heard it.

It woke me around three each morning, and kept me up for the rest of the night, even though I pretended to fall back asleep. Ethan saw through my bullshit, considering I was tired and cranky during the day. Everything seemed to irk me, but I blamed it on the lack of sleep and my stupid brain deciding to bring back new fragments of that night during my slumber.

I wasn't sure if I should be happy for remembering more of that night, or upset for remembering all the wrong parts. If only I could remember the dance and the happiness Brian and Daphne told me about...but no. I had to remember the bashing, Brian panicking over my bleeding probably, and then there was the fact of not having Brian there when I woke up to calm me. It seemed to make the nightmares more aggressive with each passing night.

After another ruined night of me waking up screaming—worse than before—Ethan seemed to have had enough.

I was still too shaken to question why we were getting dressed and why he was dragging me out in the middle of the night. During the cab ride, I tried asking what was he doing, but he shook his head sadly.

"I can't do this. I don't know how. I'm sorry."

"Ethan…" My words died on my lips as I realized where he'd taken me. "Fuck, no."

"Fuck, yes," he hissed, pulling me out of the cab.

I fought him all the way to the building Brian lived in. He was taking me to my ex-boyfriend—if I could call Brian that—only because it was too difficult for him to cope with me and my nightmares. It showed me what kind of person he was, and how blind I'd been.

"Don't do this." I slapped his hand as he went to punch Brian's button. "Let's go back and talk."

"Justin, I can't do it. I can't even begin to understand what happened to you at your prom, but I know when to back down. If, as your boyfriend, I can't protect your from your nightmares or at least calm you after one...then it's time I step away."

"Oh, so it's because I'm damaged. We can't have a relationship because I keep you awake with my nightmares. Fuck you, Ethan!"

"I never said that!"

"You didn't have to!"

"I know he can help you."

"He doesn't want me! He never did!" I yelled, tears pooling in my eyes.

"This doesn't mean we have to break up. Look, I'll understand if you need him in your life," he said.

I couldn't believe he just said he didn't care if I went back to Brian. Well, not in so many words. And he insinuated we could still have a relationship while I ran to Brian every time it got tough for him.

"You're such a selfish prick, Ethan! Why didn't we talk about this before? You could have told me it was bothering you instead of bringing me here and giving me no choice!"

"I'd like to sleep at night, for a change. I almost fell asleep in class yesterday."

"I'm sorry for interrupting your beauty sleep with my nightmares," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Are you done screaming at each other like two munchers in heat?"

I shouted in surprise, taking a step back and bumping into the door. I hadn't noticed Brian was present. He was leaning casually against his Jeep, his eyes on me.

"How much did you hear?" I whispered, suddenly feeling drained.

"Enough to know you should dump his sorry ass. He's not worth it." His voice was stony.

"Good. He's here. Let's be over with it quickly. Talk to him, then let's go back."

I gaped at Ethan. "Excuse me?"

"Go on. Talk to him." He pointed to Brian. "Once you feel better, we're going home."

"You've got to be kidding. You know what, Ethan? Go back to your fucking dump of a place. I'll be over in the morning to take my stuff, and from now on, no one will interrupt your sleep." I glared, hating the tear sliding down my nose.

I thought I was finally happy, having Ethan, but apparently he was a two-faced bastard. At least Brian had never turned his back on me.

Ethan seemed to realize the gravity of the situation, and stepped closer, trying to apologize. He didn't get too close, though.

Brian appeared between us, pushing a finger into Ethan's chest. "You better scamper off, before I break your arm."

He hesitated, then with one last look at me, he turned away and walked down the street. I had no idea what exactly I read on his face—anger, betrayal, resignation. I didn't care.

Brian spun around, raising an eyebrow. "Care to explain why the fuck you had a screaming contest with the fiddler in front of my house? Not very romantic if you wanted to win me back."

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Only a sob caught in my throat.

"They're back," I mumbled after minutes passed in silence.

"Who's back?" He seemed genuinely curious.

I gulped. "My nightmares. They're back. And Ethan couldn't handle it. He decided to bring me here so you can fix me like a broken machine, before going back to him."

"He, _what_?" Brian growled, turning to glare in the direction Ethan had disappeared. "That fucking piece of shit." Looking back at me, he sighed.

He unlocked the front door, shouldering it open. It was my cue to leave with a broken heart. He didn't seem to give a fuck my nightmares were back.

"Princesses first." Brian gestured for me.

I stood rooted in place, before I smiled—my first real smile in days.

"Don't make me say it twice, Justin. I'm tired."

He'd probably been out clubbing. Nothing new.

I walked inside the building before him. We stood quietly in the elevator, but I could feel his eyes on me.

At his door, I leaned against the wall as he unlocked, the fatigue catching up with me. Yawning, I stepped into his loft, closing the door after me.

Brian went straight to his booze and poured two glasses, handing me one, before slumping on the sofa. I sat next to him, holding the glass between my palms with no intention to drink the contents.

"Well, go on. Talk. Tell me. You said the nightmares are back, and the reason you're here is to talk about that."

"No. I didn't want to come here. I was forced."

He snorted. "That's a first. Someone forced to come to my loft...by their boyfriend, no less."

"Brian, can you be serious?"

"Call me Dr. Love. The session costs a hundred. I take sexual favors, too."

"Fuck you. I'm leaving." I slammed the glass on the table and marched to the door.

"The fuck you are!" He caught my elbow and turned me around.

His hazel eyes burned with a fire I knew oh too well. He was going to kiss me. Or fuck me.

Backing me into the metal door, he slammed his fists on either side of my head, breathing through his nose like a raging bull.

"Talk, Sunshine."

"Oh, because it's that easy," I grumbled, avoiding his heated stare.

"You're making it complicated."

"I'm not going back to him." I wanted to make it clear, he was allowed to kiss me if he wanted. Not like Brian cared much about other people's feelings, but he had always cared about mine.

"Was it the same one?" His voice dropped, staring at me softly.

"It was worse." I fixated his zipper tag with my eyes, deciding it was safe to look at. "I told you goodbye in the parking lot...then walked away...you shouted my name...then I could _feel_ the pain." I took a shuddering breath. It was worse talking about my nightmare, it made it more real. "Then as if through a fog, I heard you talking to me, shouting at someone about me not breathing."

"Shit." Brian brought me to his chest. The gesture was all it took for the flood gates to open as I sobbed like a little fag in his shoulder. "Shhh."

I was aware we were moving, but didn't acknowledge the destination. We might have stopped on the bed, but I wasn't sure. All I could hear were my loud sobs and Brian shushing me, stroking my hair.

As if in a dream, he took my shoes off, my socks, my clothes, until I was in my underwear. By then, I was positive we were on the bed. He slid in behind me, hugging me and whispering in my ear. I couldn't focus on the words, but his voice calmed me enough to lull me into a peaceful sleep.

In the morning, I woke up disoriented.

Brian's annoying alarm was blaring from the nightstand. I slapped the clock so harshly it fell to the floor. I secretly hoped I broke the thing. I'd always hated it.

It took me a few moments to realize I was alone, but then I heard the shower. He hadn't left.

For the first time since I met Brian, I was unsure what to do. Would it be okay to join him, or wait until he was finished? Technically, I was a free man again, but I had no idea how Brian felt after last night.

Last night. Jesus. I still couldn't believe what happened.

"Good. You're up. Go take a shower." Brian appeared in his bedroom in all his glory. "And close your mouth, unless you decide to put it to better use."

Same old Brian, nothing to be afraid of. "What happens now?"

He stepped in a pair of boxers, raising an eyebrow. "We go have breakfast, then I'm driving you to get your stuff from the fiddler's dumpster...unless you've changed your mind." I shook my head, and he smirked. "Then because I feel generous, I'm driving you wherever the fuck you want to live...and going to work."

 _Can I live here?_ I couldn't ask out loud, and he already turned to select his suit for the day.

After my shower, we went to the diner. Neither of us thought of the consequences of walking in together. Especially with Brian scolding me for stepping in dog shit before getting into his car earlier.

"It's not my freaking fault some inconsiderate citizen let their dog poop on the sidewalk!"

"It will stink for days!"

"Besides, stepping in shit is supposed to bring you luck," I teased, bumping into his shoulder.

"Right. You made sure I have to buy all the air fresheners available in the whole world to extinguish that horrid smell from my car."

"What's going on here?" Michael asked, his eyes bugging out.

Brian scowled, resting his elbow on my shoulder. "Sunshine stepped in dog shit and now my Jeep reeks."

"It was an accident!" I protested, pushing him away.

"No, I mean...what the hell happened? You didn't even acknowledge each other yesterday. Now you're all friendly."

"Trust me. This is not me being friendly," Brian growled. "No one messes with my car."

"You didn't seem to care about it when the kids down the block where Michael lives wrote on it a few years ago."

"Shut the fuck up." He slapped me behind the head playfully.

Debbie appeared next to us. "Dammit. That's my job...slapping sense into people. And since when are you two talking?"

"Since last night when Ethan sent me off to Brian to fix me up after a nightmare," I said casually.

Silence fell between the four of us. Emmett, who must have heard us from the table, walked over hugging me tightly.

"What an asshole. Oh, sweetie."

"Do not fear. Rage saved the day once again." Brian wrapped his arm around my shoulders, bringing me closer. "Now, can we have some breakfast?" He smiled at Debbie.

She seemed to still be in shock, but snapped out of it when Brian did the unthinkable. He took my hand and led me to our booth. My skin was on fire where he touched me.

As we ate breakfast, everyone seemed to ignore the big pink elephant in the room, which was Brian still holding my hand, resting on my thigh. He even went so far as to push a forkful of omelet in my mouth when I said I couldn't eat more after only a few bites.

My stomach was in knots.

First, there was the Ethan issue. In daylight, now, I regretted saying the hurtful words, and a part of me wanted to apologize. At least, we shouldn't part ways mad at each other.

Second, there was the Brian issue. I had no idea where we stood. He hadn't shown me whether he wanted more or was only there to help me cope with my nightmares. I hoped we still stood a chance. I'd been such an idiot to leave him, seeking romance, when in a fucked-up way, I had everything I needed.

Third, there was the living arrangements issue.

When Debbie returned with the check, I mustered up my courage to ask in front of everyone if she'd have me back in Michael's old bedroom. She was my only chance.

"Hey, Deb?"

She smiled. "Yes, Sunshine."

"Say, is the spare bedroom still free? I don't exactly have a place to go...and I'd hate to bother Daphne."

Brian tensed next to me, but he didn't say anything.

"Sure, honey." She glanced at Brian who was tranquilly sipping from his coffee. "But are you sure? Couples fight. It's not worth it to ruin it over a little fight."

I caught on her bullshit from the second she looked at Brian. Apparently, he was slow today, considering her statement got his attention. He threw her a glare.

"Why don't you let him decide what the fuck he wants to do with his life? Especially when that asshole treated him like shit."

"Look who's talking." Debbie snorted, turning to another table when she was summoned.

"Ma's right." Michael nodded.

"On which aspect?" Brian muttered, clenching his hand around mine. It hurt, but I'd take the pain to feel him close...even a small part of him.

"The latter. Why do you think he went to that guy? Your lovely behavior sent him away."

"Uh, I'm right here!" I snapped. "And I know leaving...going to Ethan was a stupid mistake. True, I got what I wanted, but at what price?"

"We need to disinfect you. You might have fleas after living in that pig pen." Brian grinned.

I didn't even try correcting him. Life with Ethan had been nice only in the moments when I didn't have to think of the place I was living in; the make-shift bed, the cat hair everywhere, even though I loved that cat, the lack of food, or the quality of it. The only times I'd remember were the walks in the park, the breakfast in bed, serenading me, buying me roses, saying the words I'd always wanted to hear. I'd stick to those.

"We should go," I said after a few minutes.

After checking his watch, Brian pulled his wallet out, put a few bills between our plates, which made me want to punch and kiss him at the same time, before standing. "We have just enough time to collect your stuff and install you at Debbie's, before I need to be in a meeting."

Saying goodbye to our friends, I shuffled behind him on the way out of the diner. "I could have paid for my food."

"With what money?"

I sighed, resigned. "I need a better job."

He stopped at his Jeep, staring at me deep in thought. "There's an opening in the Art Department."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Is that supposed to be a new nickname referring to me as a bottom? Nice. You know how to say it so well…"

Brian rolled his eyes, jingling his keys. "The Art Department at Vanguard needs a new artist. There's one spot available."

_Oh, shit. Here I thought he was making sexual innuendoes._

"Do you need my resume?" I asked.

"I can put in a good word for you with Gardner. I'm his partner, after all. My decision counts, too."

"Really? You'd do that for me?" I couldn't believe it. To think only yesterday we weren't even on speaking terms, and now he was offering me a job at his firm.

"Sure, Sunshine. There's nothing noble about being poor, and I'd always help a fellow fag become successful."

I snorted. He couldn't be serious for a minute.

I wished he'd overcome his fear to actually admit he wanted to do something nice for someone because he cared about them, not turn it into a general situation.

At Ethan's, I was greeted by an enthusiastic Wolfram, rubbing over my ankles, purring loudly. I wondered if Ethan returned to the small studio after leaving me with Brian. The bed looked like we'd left it when we had the impromptu midnight visit.

"Can you grab my bag? It's in the closet. I need to feed Wolfram."

Brian snorted, muttering about the cat's stupid name.

"It's actually Wolfram von Eschenbach named after the German epic poet of the late 12th-early 13th century who wrote the _Parzival_ —considered one of the greatest German epic poems." I couldn't believe I just quoted Ethan, but the story behind the cat's name always amused me.

"You still babble a lot. And it's still a stupid name for a cat." Brian walked to the closet and pulled the door open, holding the handle with two fingers as if afraid to touch it.

I tracked the canned fish and dumped the contents in Wolfram's bowl. I really felt bad for him, and I'd miss him, but it wasn't like a cat would be the reason to keep me there.

"Are you ready? I'm reaching my limit to be in this place," Brian called from the other room.

I grabbed my toothbrush and shampoo from the bathroom, and picked my red sweater off the chair on the way to Brian. He stood, looking around disgusted.

"How the fuck could you live here?"

_It was a roof above my head._

_It was a place filled with love._

_It was a warm place—sometimes—I almost called home._

"No idea," I chose to answer.

Stuffing my things in the bag, I looked around for any forgotten items. I found my sketchpad by the bed and shoved it in the bag, then saw my laundry by the window where we hung the washed clothes.

"Let me guess. Washed them yourself. He doesn't own a washing machine."

"Like you do?"

"That's what the cleaning lady is paid to do."

"Not all of us have so much money. Besides, there's nothing wrong in washing your own underwear." I scooped Wolfram off the floor as he wandered to me. "You be good, okay?" I stroked him between the ears. "And stop scratching at the bathroom door," I added with a laugh. That door was testimony to his claw-sharpening, which usually happened at night when we locked him in there to be alone, uninterrupted.

"You realize we're going to wash your clothes? Or better, burn them. Cat hair is a bitch to brush off clothes."

"Jesus, Brian. Why are you so against pets?" I dropped the cat to the floor. He strutted to the bed where he jumped up, coiling on top of the blanket.

"It's actually because I feel sorry for them...being alone the whole day, then at night when you get home from work you stay with them a few minutes before pushing them away to get your rocks off. Tell me I'm wrong."

He was right, of course, but I didn't give him the satisfaction.

I zipped up my duffel bag and slung it over my shoulder. "Let's go."

"So this is it? You're leaving?"

I gasped at Ethan's sudden appearance.

"I need to be in the office by ten, so say 'Goodbye, Ian.'" Brian pushed me to the door.

"Can you wait in the car? Please?"

"If you're not there in five, I'm leaving." He took my bag, probably to give me a reason to go after him, then left, sliding out the door careful not to touch it or the doorframe.

I found myself smiling at his queening.

"Wow. That didn't take long at all—falling back in his arms." Ethan scowled.

"Nothing happened, if you must know. Though, he did manage to make me forget about the nightmares and actually sleep."

"See? I told you. Now, you don't have to leave…"

"I _do_ need to leave, actually. If you think we can be together only to send me away to Brian when it gets tough for you...then I'm sorry I ever hoped we'd work. Instead of trying to understand how I feel, to ask what I need during these times...you chose the easy way out. Well, here's me choosing the easy way out, though it fucking hurts. I'm really sorry, Ethan. I thought we could…"

"We still can. He will never give you what I do."

"Maybe so, but Brian will never turn his back on me, especially when I need him the most."

A honk blared. I took a few steps to the door.

"You're leaving? Seriously?"

"Yes. Goodbye."

I escaped before he could reach me and do anything that would change my mind. As I rushed down the stairs, I could hear Ethan calling my name, but I didn't turn.

Brian had the music turned up when I stepped into the car. The song playing was awfully ironic, and I wasn't sure if he'd selected it or it came up on his shuffle.

 _You don't appreciate me_  
You don't appreciate me  
You don't appreciate me  
You don't appreciate me

Do you remember trip to paradise?  
We found the stars together  
The sky was so bright  
You take the shot, the angel don't remember me, yeah  
Now she's lookin' down the road and how old can you be?

I wanted to comment, but decided against it. The music was loud for a reason. He didn't want to talk.

"Why are we here?" I demanded when he stopped in front of Vanguard. "Weren't you taking me to Debbie's?"

"I was, but then you decided to take your sweet time."

"I had to clear things up."

"Well, I need to be in this meeting, so unless you have anything better to do, I suggest you come with me. Might as well meet Gardner and tell him you need an internship. He'll cave when he hears that. Trust me. He's all for exploiting the students eager to learn more."

"Is this revenge for paying for my education? I told you I didn't need…"

"Sunshine, if I wanted revenge, I'd have made you wipe my floors or get my money back by making you blow every guy in Babylon."

"Always sweet," I grumbled.

"Now get out of my car."

We walked quietly inside the building. In the elevator, Brian made sure to lean over me to press the right button, brushing my arm in the process. As I stepped out on his floor, he brushed my ass, commenting on cat hair. I was going to spontaneously combust.

Cynthia was pacing in Brian's office when we arrived. She immediately assaulted him with tons of information, but stopped abruptly when she noticed me hovering in the doorway.

"You know Justin, right?"

Cynthia gave him an incredulous look as if saying, _Of course I know him, but the fuck is he doing here_?

"Can you introduce him to Vance? He wants to intern with our company." Brian smiled widely, but it seemed sarcastic.

**Brian's POV**

I made it back to my office after a long, exhausting meeting with the cop-wanna-be-mayor.

Somehow, I managed to forget about my visitor. He was perched on my chair, feet on my desk, eating chips and putting his greasy fingers on my keyboard and mouse.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Justin jumped, nearly spilling chips all over the floor. "Hey."

I rolled my eyes at his typical Justin answer.

Last night's events shouldn't have surprised me. I expected that asshole to do something stupid a long time ago, to make Justin realize he was much better with me. Even though I didn't and would never tell him the three little words, I was sure I did a stellar job at showing it. Everyone could tell how I felt toward the little shit, only he was the blind one.

Maybe now he wouldn't take my gestures for granted anymore.

I'd lie if I said I didn't wish every day they'd break up, but what the fiddler decided to do the previous night was definitely not one of the reasons I'd conjured. He was the world's biggest idiot, such a fucking self-conceited bastard. He only ever cared for himself and his stupid music.

Music...

Which made me aware of the loud beat in my office.

I stalked to my speakers and unplugged them from the computer. "This is not Babylon. Can you kindly move your dirty, dog-shit stinky feet off my desk?"

"Don't you want to know how my meeting went?" He threw a few chips in his mouth, grinning at me, munching loudly.

"Vance looked pleased when he joined me and Stockwell. I'd say it went well." I pushed his feet off my desk, and they fell to the floor with a thud. Then I snatched the bag of chips from him, dumping it in the trash can.

"Hey, I was eating that!"

"Not anymore. Now, wash your hands, then I'll take you to the Art Department. They can use a hand."

"But I'm not hired yet. Am I?" Justin frowned.

"The papers are in the works. You're in. Go wash your hands," I repeated.

He got up and came to me, smirking. "Care to show me to the bathroom? I might get lost on the way."

"Cynthia!" I called out.

She appeared in my office a second later, looking between us confused.

"Would you be kind enough to show Mr. Taylor to the men's room?"

Justin scowled and shuffled out of my office.

If I kept my distance and tried to act cool, I wouldn't be so tempted to jump his bones. Last night had been pure torture in both a good and bad way—hugging him, having him so close, yet hurt and scared and angry at his stupid boyfriend, and the return of his nightmares. At that moment in time, I had no idea if there was a chance, but his determination to leave the fiddler gave me hope.

I'd do my best to make our non-relationship work.

Justin took his sweet time washing his hands, and by the time he joined me in the hallway, my patience was wearing thin. I led the way to the Art Department and introduced him, telling the others Justin was going to be their colleague. Surprisingly, or not, they warmed up to him fast. Especially when he got all bossy about our current campaign on EyeConics.

I tried not to laugh too hard as everyone was gaping at Justin once he started babbling about the colors, the light, the design. Good to know some things never changed.

"Take a breath," I reminded him, patting his back.

He threw me that special smile of his. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"What kind of reward is this?"

Justin leaned closer, straightening my collar. "We're still at work. What are you suggesting, Mr. Kinney?"

"You get to work." I turned around and left, needing the distance. My fingers were itching to touch him, my lips burning to kiss him, my cock twitching to get inside him, but I had to make sure we were okay first. I didn't want to hurt him, or make him think he was just a piece of ass I went to when I needed to get my rocks off. He probably knew he was everything to me, but needed a reminder.

For the rest of the day, I managed to stay away from him.

Around six thirty, I got a text message from him saying the Art Department was leaving and to meet at the elevator. I was out the door in less than a minute.

I stopped casually a good foot behind him and his new group of friends. They seemed to be coaxing him into joining them for drinks. Justin looked around, and when he saw me, he sighed in relief, smiling.

"I'm going with him."

"Twat," I muttered, his words clearly reminding both of us of the night we met.

He'd grown up so much since then.

"Drinks with the boss?" One of the guys asked, looking impressed and yet confused.

I was curious how Justin was going to escape from that. Of course he surprised me, like always.

"He's my friend first." He beamed at me.

"Maybe another time," I told him, stepping into the elevator after the group. "We need to move you in."

Justin stared at his shoes. "I hate doing this to Debbie. She worked so hard to keep me there the last time."

"Well, now you're a big boy. You can help her."

"I always helped her, Brian. It's just...she has Vic to worry about, and I'd only be in the way."

"There go my nightly visits," I whispered in his ear, making him turn red and look around agitated.

Everyone was watching our interaction. It wasn't like I cared what they thought. I was the fucking boss. I did whatever the fuck I wanted, and whoever the fuck I wanted.

On the way to my Jeep, after saying goodbye to the others, I bumped into Justin's shoulder when he kept complaining about disturbing Debbie. "If you're subtly inviting yourself into the loft…"

"I'm not. I know you don't want me there," he grumbled.

"You're more than welcome," I said. "I could empty a drawer for you," I added, walking around the car and sliding in.

Justin seemed frozen at the passenger door. I opened the door from the inside. He quickly got in, watching me with wide eyes.

"Really? I mean isn't this kind of rushed? I think I need some time alone...you know…"

"To rediscover yourself or some bullshit?"

He cringed, looking away.

"Look, if you don't want, I don't care. But I thought you should know; if you want, you can stay with me."

"I know you missed my ass, but not that much." Justin laughed nervously.

Cupping his cheek, I turned his head to look into bright blue eyes. "I missed all of you, Sunshine. My loft was awfully clean without you there."

"Miss my socks on the kitchen counter or the crumbs on your sofa?"

"Maybe not that much." It had been a relief to see the kitchen counter sock-free. He always managed to throw his socks there...from the bed. It took skill, I had to admit. But lately, I even missed scolding him for that.

We went to the diner without saying more on the subject of him moving in with me.

Thankfully, none of our friends were there, besides Debbie. Of course.

"This means I have to stop working here?" Justin wondered, walking to the counter and slumping on a stool.

"If you think you can keep working here, at Vanguard, and attend school, then by all means keep the job."

"Yeah, not happening. I took all kinds of crazy hours lately to avoid having to sleep during the night."

"And it backfired at you." I sighed.

"It's okay, really. I don't care."

"What will you two have?" Debbie appeared in front of us, smiling brightly.

"Burger and fries."

"Have I taught you nothing?" I rolled my eyes. "It's after seven. No carbs."

Justin snorted. "And a Coke," he added, winking at Debbie.

"And what will you have, a Caesar salad?"

"That doesn't sound bad actually."

"I was joking."

"I'm not."

When Debbie brought our food, she rested her elbows on top of the counter.

"All packed up and ready to be my housemate again?" She pinched Justin's cheek.

He glanced at me, before looking into his plate. "Actually… I had a better offer."

"You're not going back to him!" She glared.

I hoped she wasn't talking about me, but Justin seemed to know what she meant as he leaned closer, pressing his head against my shoulder. He mouthed something to her, gesturing to me.

"What was that?" I demanded. "You're _so_ sleeping on the couch."

Debbie laughed. "You got that right, Sunshine." After winking at me, she went to take an order from a group of new-comers.

"What did you just tell her?" I insisted, pushing Justin away.

"Nothing." He smiled, busying himself with his burger.

"Scratch the sleeping on the couch. You're sleeping outside. Or I might as well take you to Debbie's as planned."

"You wouldn't," he said, smile still in place.

"And why's that?" I raised an eyebrow, truly curious.

Placing his burger back on the plate, he shifted closer, looping his arms around my neck. "Because you're craaaazy for me."

I scowled, moving away from his hug. "Dream on."

"And you miiiiiissssed me."

I was curious of how far he'd go, so I let him talk.

"And you can't live without meeeee."

"Are you done?"

"And you neeeeed me."

"Stop being a brat." I stabbed my fork in a piece of feta cheese.

"And you soooo waaant me there." Justin had somehow managed to drape himself over my back and was whispering in my ear.

"Are you done?" I repeated, meeting his eyes.

He ducked his head, biting on my earlobe. "You love me," he said quietly, blowing over the spot he bit.

I sucked in a breath, because of course he knew. He'd seen through my bullshit long ago.

"And I loooove you, too." He turned my head and pecked my lips. "Now I'm done." He went back to his stool, smiling like the cat that got the canary.

I focused on my food, knowing we'd have a talk once we got back to the loft. I hated talking. I preferred expressing my feelings, usually while horizontal in bed or in whatever position whenever.

"Shit," Justin hissed. He slid closer to me and hid under my arm.

"What the…" My question died on my lips when I saw who'd entered the diner. "We can always leave."

"No way. _He_ needs to leave."

I wanted to turn around and give the asshole a piece of my mind when Justin took my face in his hands and kissed me. I hated the way my heart swelled, along with my cock, and there was a hole in my stomach, a warm feeling coursing through me.

Justin moaned loudly, sticking his tongue in my mouth, almost climbing on my lap. He'd lost the pretense of the kiss, and got lost in the moment. It was easy to get lost in him.

My fingers curled into his longer hair and I tugged, earning a groan from him. His mouth was insistent—hot, wet, demanding.

"Don't fuck here!" Debbie scolded us. "That's what the bathroom is for."

"Take me home," Justin whispered against my lips.

He didn't need to say it twice. I slapped a few bills on the counter, probably more than our tab, took his hand, and walked out. Satisfaction filled me as I saw the broken-hearted look on the fiddler's face. He deserved it. It was his turn to see how it hurt to see the one you cared so much about kissing another.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first attempt at twisting the original plot. I hope you all liked the outcome.


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